


Complete, or Third Time's the Charm

by imaginedandreal



Series: The Virtch and Moir Fluff Fix [9]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy, just the barest hint of smut to keep it interesting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedandreal/pseuds/imaginedandreal
Summary: The birth of the third Virtue-Moir daughter is an event full of drama, surprises (some pleasant, others less so), but the predictable result is a total and all-encompassing love.
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Series: The Virtch and Moir Fluff Fix [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1012905
Comments: 20
Kudos: 46





	Complete, or Third Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at it again! This little family is increasing by one more!
> 
> Be advised, there are mentions of a complicated labor, as well as hints of PTSD. I tried not making it too intense and triggering of course, but I completely understand if it's not someone's cup of tea.
> 
> Love and hugs, and don't forget to tell me what you dears think!

The baby names conversation starts up again right on Tessa’s (and Rosie’s) birthday. Both Tessa and Scott have had extensive debates about it right from the time that they found out she is pregnant with their third daughter.

Tessa glances over at her husband, now and then, as they chat and compare name ideas. His excitement and anticipation for their third little girl is absolutely enchanting (though she would not out-sap him by admitting that out loud). She recalls the time earlier in the spring when they went for the sex reveal ultrasound.

_It was a unanimous decision, to find out who they’re going to have. The thing that swayed them ultimately was Rosie and Sammy’s wish for a tiny little sister._

_“It could be a boy,” Tessa tried to gently warn their girls. Rosie frowned for a few seconds, considering this possibility, but then smiled again._

_“I guess I’ll love him too.”_

_Trust their eldest to be her sunny, magnanimous self._

_Sammy, however, had a theory of her own. “So, if the doctor tells you it’s a boy, we can all wish hard enough, and he will turn into a girl!” she enthused, looking rather intensely hopeful._

_Scott couldn’t help chuckling, as he disguised his mirth with a deliberate cough. Tessa grinned at their clever middle child, tugging on her short brown pigtail._

_“I’m afraid not, Sam-Sam. If the baby turns out to be a boy, then you girls will get a little brother.”_

_“That’s no fun. Boys have cooties,” Sam declared, wrinkling her button nose, uncannily like her mom._

_“Sure shows our second daughter has started school,” Scott quipped, winking at her._

_Tessa broke out into laughter, loudly this time, and smiles appeared even on Rosie and Sammy’s faces. “You’re too right, sweetie. Boys can have cooties,” she said. “Even Daddy has them, sometimes,” she teased, lightly elbowing Scott in his side._

_He gasped, pretending to be hurt, as he put his hand over his heart. “So I have cooties, eh? Well, you really didn’t act like I do...last night.”_

_His face was innocent, but his tone and his twinkling eyes were anything but. Tessa felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks, as she caught on his lascivious meaning. Last night really had been rather...fun, and cooties were certainly not a barrier between her and her oh-so-sexy and willing husband’s mutual pleasure._

_“Yeah, I’m so getting back at you for making innuendos in front of our children,” she murmured later, while they all did the post-dinner cleaning up._

_Scott’s responding smile was soft, but full of promise of more delight. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” he murmured back, leaning to kiss her._

_But the uninterrupted adult fun time would be delayed._

_It was not until bedtime hugs and kisses that they both noticed curiosity blatantly radiating from both girls. Rosie and Sammy clearly had a question they wanted to be answered._

_Scott gave both girls big hugs and playful tickles, to which they squealed and giggled. Tessa giggled too, leaning to embrace her girls goodnight._

_“Mommy?”_

_She looked Sammy in the eye, marveling at how much like Scott’s the hazel orbs were._

_“What is it, munchkin?”_

_“Did Daddy give you cooties so you could start growing the baby?”_

_At that, Scott stopped horseplaying with Rosie. A laugh already bubbled up from his chest, but he tempered it, turning his attention to Sam._

_Tessa looked at her, too. “Why do you ask, Sammy?”_

_She too had to fight back laughter, full of adoration at her two girls’ innocent learning of the world._

_The little girl chewed her lip. “‘Cause Rosie thinks so.”_

_“Oh?” They turned to Rosie, who was staring back, expectantly. “And why do you think so, missy?” Scott inquired, giving her a gentle pinch of her cheek._

_“‘Cause Sammy thinks so,” Rosie shrugged._

_Even two years older than her little sister, sometimes she was none the wiser, especially in these topics._

_“Fair enough,” Scott said, giving Tessa a glance. She saw her own softness mirrored there. “You see, ladies, when two adults want to make a baby - ”_

_“They have to sleep in the same bed, and then the mama gets pregnant,” Rosie nodded, proud of herself for knowing the answer at least to this. She knew that much about human reproduction, though of course, at seven, she had no clue about the more graphic details._

_“But how?” Sammy questioned, fidgeting with still more inquisitiveness._

_Tessa looked back at Scott, wordlessly asking him whether she should gently but decisively push the envelope. He nodded, smiling reassuringly. She cleared her throat, and gave their daughters a neutral smile._

_“See, when they sleep in the same bed, the daddy gives the mama a tiny little cell. Mama has her own tiny cells inside her body, too,” she explained, gesturing to the general direction of her abdomen. “And when the daddy’s cell mixes with the mama’s, it creates a baby. At first, the baby is so very tiny that the mama’s belly is pretty small. The belly grows as the baby gets bigger.”_

_Scott, who has been watching her quietly, grinned. “So there, kiddos. That’s how your Mama got your baby brother or sister in her belly.”_

_At last, they gave some parting kisses and hair ruffles, and made to leave the girls’ room._

_As they went through the hallway, they paused, hearing two sleepy voices carrying from the small bedroom._

_“I don’t get it.” That was Sammy, her words barely recognizable through a yawn. “How did Daddy give Mama his cell?”_

_“Don’t know,” Rosie mumbled back, sleepily. “Maybe he put it in her coffee. He sometimes brings Mama coffee to bed. She likes that a lot.”_

_Tessa exploded in laughter, muffling herself hastily with her arm, as she hurried inside their own bedroom, Scott following. For a few moments, she could do nothing but just laugh uncontrollably, her entire body shaking, on the edge of the bed._

_“Shh,” Scott whispered, loudly, but she saw merriment overtaking him too. He burrowed his head into her shoulder and they laughed and laughed, until they fell backwards onto the bed and clutched each other, gasping for air._

_When Tessa blew her hair out of her face, she caught his mischievous eyes staring at her, like he could never get tired of the sight. Neither could she._

_“I love our kids.”_

_“I love them too. And I love you.”_

_“I love you too, babe. Speaking of, want some adult cooties?”_

_He traced his hand from her neck to her waist, suggestively. She snorted with more mirth, but knew she’s rather tired. “Not tonight, bad boy. I could use some snuggling cooties, though.” She pinched his ass cheekily. “Tomorrow...anything goes.”_

_Scott smiled, and leaned to peck her on the lips tenderly. “Right on.”_

_He helped her situate herself comfortably, and settled behind her. Tessa glanced down, enjoying the sight of his big palms caressing her belly._

_“Love you so much, kiddo,” she heard his half-asleep words, as slumber descended on her too. The fact that he could have been speaking to either her or the baby made her heart soar with a quiet but beautiful joy._

_The next day, the both of them were vibrating with an anxious eagerness so much that not even jokes about adult cooties would make them laugh. The appointment when they would learn who they are having was following right on the heels of the time when they’d drop Rosie and Sammy off at school._

_The doctor was efficient but patient, as Tessa gingerly settled herself on the examination bed. Scott perched on the chair near her head, glancing at the still-blank ultrasound monitor in expectation._

_“So, I take it you’d like to know the sex of the baby today?” the doctor began, looking at both of them in turn. She smiled when both Tessa and Scott nodded back._

_“Yes,” they answered in unison, incidentally. The doctor smiled again as they chuckled, all humor mixed with nervousness._

_The gel was soon spread over Tessa’s bump; the ultrasound wand pressing gently but firmly around on the rounded belly. Tessa lay patiently, as the doctor pointed out all the (thank goodness!) perfectly healthy parts of their developing baby. She sensed Scott’s thumb brushing her hand over and over, a nervous attempt to soothe either his or her nerves._

_As the pitter-patter of the baby’s heartbeat filled the air, Tessa choked out a laugh, knowing that tears leaked out of her eyes. Scott grinned brilliantly, as their eyes met. His own were damp and shining._

_“There we go,” the doctor told them, reassuringly. “This all means that you two are going to have a beautiful and...”_

_The wand paused, and Tessa held her breath. She hardly noticed Scott’s tighter squeeze of her hand._

_“...most importantly, healthy daughter. Congratulations, dear parents. That’s definitely a girl.”_

_Scott gasped. He stared at the monitor in disbelief, then looked at Tessa. She was laughing and crying, in such a beautiful blend of relief and wonder. Scott raised her hand and planted a kiss on it, then leaned down to do the same to her forehead._

_“A girl,” he choked, trembling with emotion. “We’re having another daughter, T.”_

_“We are,” she whispered back, nearly overwhelmed with the elation and gratitude._

_As soon as they walked out of the ultrasound room, Scott turned to her and kissed her full on the lips. She squeaked a bit when his arms wrapped around her, nevertheless melting into his embrace._

_He released her, flushed with excitement and happiness. Tessa’s cheeks ached, and she knew she must be smiling just as hard._

_“Holy shit, Tess. We’re having a daughter again.”_

_Scott’s eyes were shining with pure love and exhilaration. While it almost lifted her on her toes to see it, a tiny hint of a doubt wormed its way into her mind._

_She’d seen him with his little nephews before, how affectionate and friendly he was to them. He’d never explicitly spoken any wish for a son, but she found herself wondering if he just never did tell her anything because he’d hate to pressure her. He never acted like something was lacking from their life because their children were female (and she knew he loved the girls with everything he had), and yet...and yet…_

_“T? Everything okay?”_

_Scott’s gentle voice cut through her musing. She hadn’t even realized that the car had stopped in front of their home. The whole ride was a blur, as she’d been lost in reflection._

_He helped her out of the car, and carefully steered her into the house. She walked over to the living room couch, sitting down. Scott sat right near her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder._

_“You look worried about something, kiddo. What is it?”_

_She wasn’t sure if it was his kindness, or just her hormones surging, but she wanted to cry at how kind, how caring his voice was. She let a few tears fall. Scott muttered several soft, comforting words, cradling her closer._

_She whimpered a little, tightening her arms around him. God, how she loved this man. He was too good for her. Almost too good to be true, to be real. But he was there with her, by her side. He was hers, forever._

_“Did you want a boy?” she blurted out, as soon as she raised her head from the crook of his neck._

_Scott frowned for a good few moments, looking at her in confusion._

_“What do you mean?”_

_She gestured helplessly, not knowing why this was such an issue for her. “I thought you’d be disappointed that it’s a girl again. I suspected you’d want it to be a son this time, a little Moir boy - ”_

_“Tutu. Hey, look at me.”_

_The softness of his words made her heart skip a beat, but she stopped and met his eyes._

_“No boy will ever mean what our girls mean to me. I swear it. The thought never even crossed my mind.”_

_His hands cupped her face, so tenderly, but his eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand. He gave a soft laugh._

_“I mean, this isn’t the 19th century. It’s not like I need an heir. Heir to what - my old skates and my Molson fridge?”_

_Tessa smiled a bit, at the joke. She let herself stroke his back in response._

_Scott continued, his tone warm and reassuring. “And, sure, I would have been just as happy if it was a boy, but Tess...To know that you’re going to give me, us, a third daughter...it’s everything. It’s absolutely enough for me. Another little angel that has her beautiful mother’s hair and eyes and smile. I’m the happiest, luckiest man in this goddamn world. All because of you.”_

_He gave her a short, sweet kiss on the lips. “I’m so lucky you let me do this with you for the third time. I can’t understand what I did to deserve that, but it’s…” His breath hitched, and she saw that his eyes were glimmering. “It’s my greatest joy. You and the girls, all of you. Everything else, the medals, the trophies - nothing will surpass my family. No son will compare to my amazing little girls.”_

_Tessa gazed at him, adoration making her heart beat faster. His love was so comforting but so thrilling._

_“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to put her all into the two words._

_A playful grin surfaced on his face. “And also...that means I’m still the king of this castle.”_

_“Scott!” she cackled, swatting him on the head, as he laughed. “Way to spoil your own sap. You may be the king, but I am queen around here,” she declared, making her voice sultry, and straightening her posture as if there was a real crown on her head._

_He placed his hand on his chest, and bent in a comical bow. “Indeed you are, oh my majestic wife. I am your humble servant, then.”_

_She raised her eyebrow. “So bring me some ice cream, and give me a foot massage, my humble servant. We have to celebrate the news.”_

_“I thought we’d celebrate once we pick up the girls?” Scott said, curiously._

_Tessa winked, reaching to kiss him. “We can start with the ice cream and massage...then maybe a slightly more adult celebration? Who said there can only be one party?” She let her breath tickle his ear as she spoke._

_Scott hummed in agreement, a low and intrigued sound, as he caught her intention. He jumped up from the couch, and gave her another rather comical bow._

_“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty.”_

_Tessa grinned, following him with her eyes as he went off into the kitchen, whistling happily._

_Rosie and Sammy were, predictably, delighted by the news of another sister. Tessa found herself savoring that evening, certain that only the birth itself would surpass it in joy._

Scott nudges her gently. “Te-ess?” he sing-songs in her ear, as he rubs her belly. “Kind of lost you for a second there.”

She smiles, and gives him another naming choice. “What about Jade?”

He considers it, then shrugs a little.

“It has the no-go letter. I thought you’d vetted that, before.”

Tessa gives him a blank stare, not grasping where he’s going with this. She was never against names beginning with J…

He sighs. “Didn’t you say you’re not crazy about names starting with J?”

She rolls her eyes, huffing and sticking her hand into the popcorn bucket. “That’s _it?_ I thought you came up with some school playground bully chant that rhymes with Jade, that the kids would use to make fun of her. Why is that the no-go letter, anyway?”

Scott’s turn for eye-rolling. “No, no bully chants. But Tess? I was scared you’d be reminded of...of you know. Jessica. Jac -”

“I remember the names of your exes, thank you very much,” she cuts him off. She primly dabs her mouth and fingers with a napkin, like she’s eating filet mignon at a restaurant, and not digging into half-homemade popcorn.

“I can’t say I had those two people in mind, anyway. My own sister’s name starts with J, and I don’t know why I can’t change my opinion about names, come to think of it,” she reminds him, matter-of-factly. 

He keeps looking unconvinced. “Ugh, yeah, I didn’t think of that, actually. But also, T...isn’t it a little...too much?” 

“Too much how?” She stares intensely into his hazel eyes. She has no idea why he’s so stubborn. Jade is a lovely, sweet name in her books. _Jade. Little Jadie._ Green eyes and messy soft brown locks. Of course, she might not actually have green eyes, but seeing as one of their daughters’ pretty peepers are the color of Tessa’s, it’s still on the possibility scale. Regardless of the eye color thing, Tessa likes the name. A lot. A sigh leaves her again.

“Well? How is it too much?”

He fidgets. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but, like...both the girls already have fancy names. Rose Tessa Jane. Samantha Charlotte Danielle. Isn’t something more simple in order now?” 

Tessa snorts, crossing her arms. “Simple. Sure. And then, when she’s five and they’re bickering whose name is the prettiest, it will be all ‘Mommy! Daddy! Rosie and Sammy said I have an ugly name!’” Her voice pitches higher, imitating squeaky child-speak, as she pouts exaggeratedly. Scott chuckles, then, and so does she, in spite of her slight frustration. But then she eyes him, decisively. 

“You know what? Fine. You pick. Avoid the no-go letter if you want. Just please make sure to submit your winning name somewhere in between the water breaking and the kid going to kindergarten. Even though it’s really fair that I, the _mother,_ should have the final say, seeing as I am the one punched in the ribs and bladder every day, I am the one who will endure agonizing pains, I am the one who will push the poor nameless baby out of a place where _nothing_ that _huge_ should be pushed out…” 

Exasperated, she breaks her rant, having noticed that Scott is watching her quietly. The soft adoration in his expression makes her stop talking. She’s ready to restart, to confront the flickers of humor in his eyes. 

“I swear to God, Scott Patrick, if your ass laughs at me right now, I’ll...I’ll...take a video of you singing in the shower and post it in my Instagram story!” she warns, flustered rather than frustrated now. 

Scott shows no intention of laughing, putting both arms up to suggest surrender. “I’d never dream of making fun of you. It’s just you’re so gorgeous, even when you’re getting riled up over our future baby’s name. Especially then. Anyway, Rosie and Sammy would never tease their baby sis about her name. I mean, Rosie probably wouldn’t. Sam might,” he muses, smirking. 

Tessa shakes her head, fondness overtaking her. “Yeah, she might. She’s our little bossypants, after all.”

“That’s totally our fault, if it ever is like that. Us and our pretentious baby-naming traditions,” Scott scoffs playfully. He gathers her against his side, stroking her hair. They resume the movie, sitting in a comfortable quiet. Then, Tessa notices that her hand, seemingly of its own accord, has snuck under Scott’s t-shirt. She rubs his skin gently, for no purpose than just the closeness and familiarity of the gesture. Yet, she does enjoy caressing her (still, still so unfairly toned) favorite business partner. 

Scott makes a soft sound, which she can’t identify, but she thinks it’s amusement. “What’cha up to over there, babe?”

He gives a lock of her hair a gentle tug. She smiles into his neck, inhaling his scent. “Nothing. Just admiring my sexy man.” She gives him a firm kiss on the skin of his throat, and is pleased when he shivers in response.

“I see,” Scott hums, as his own hand moves to stroke her hip. “Didn’t you wanna finish the movie, though?” His hand slips under her own thin tank top. A sigh escapes her because he lands his touch achingly close to her (not really off-limits) breast.

“Screw the movie. Let’s go have sex, or something,” she breathes, scooting up to grasp his head and kiss him hard.

Scott laughs suggestively, as he moves to stand and swing her up into his arms. “I gotta admit, I’m kind of into your mood swings at this point,” he says cheekily. 

He pushes a remote button to turn the TV off, and tosses it carelessly onto the couch, all the while keeping her in his sure grasp. Tessa relishes the strength and sturdiness of his arms. Her Scott. He’d never in a million years let her fall from his embrace, on ice or outside. And holy hell if that isn’t a turn on, too.

She laughs as they make their way upstairs. “Oh really? Well, at least you can be glad I’m not yelling at you and starting food fights at three in the morning, because my cravings are driving me crazy,” she laughs, breathlessly. She kisses his neck again, lets her teeth graze his earlobe.

Scott grunts a little, and she feels his hardness pressing to her thigh, through his sweatpants. “Food fights? Kinky, Virtch, but I’d be down for that. Just substitute the food for whipped cream and melted chocolate, and we’re golden.”

She muffles her giggling into his shoulder, and then they’re in their bedroom, and Scott is lowering her onto the bed, and kissing her senseless. She arches up to him, desperate for his body to press up against hers. 

“Slow down, babe,” he murmurs teasingly, as Tessa tugs on his t-shirt with such insistence that she barely misses his nose with her over-eager hand. Then, she moans, a relief that quickly becomes hunger for more, when his lips make a deliciously hot, damp trail via her neck to her breastbone. His hot mouth enclosing her nipple and sucking firmly make her arch deeper into the gesture.

Scott chuckles, and she whimpers with longing at the vibration it makes. “Please, Scott,” she sighs, running her fingers between his dark locks. “I want you.”

He pushes a bit harder into her, grinding against her pubic bone, and she knows he wants her just as much. “You taste so good,” he husks, full of appreciation, sprinkling kisses lower onto her, down her rounded abdomen, and then he’s kneeling by the bed, spreading her legs apart.

She raises herself a little to see what he would do next. He can still make her blush intensely with the naked lust and adoration in his gaze, and he’s doing that right now, she reflects. His eyebrow raises, a playful quirk, and he strokes her thigh.

She utters his name, a surprised, aroused groan, when she feels his fingers brushing up and down her slit. She’s ridiculously wet already, and she just needs him to give her _something_ at least - fingers or tongue, she’s not picky at all - but he seems to want to stretch her pleasurable torment of waiting for his actions.

He rubs her lightly for a few more seconds, and she moans, as her frustration rises. “Come on. I’m asking you nicely.” She blinks, doe-eyed, at him, sliding her hand down her own body, so she could grasp his, and urge it towards where she wants it most. She parts herself more using his hand. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips, watching it.

“I’m so ready for you,” she pleads, exaggerating her arousal. It really needs no playing up, with the way she’s positively dripping for him. “You know you want a taste,” she tempts him. 

He tilts his head, watching her with interest. “A taste?” Two of his fingers slip easily into her, curling against a sensitive spot with wicked skill. Her head drops back onto the bed and she shudders with the pleasure. 

He thrusts his fingers in and out of her for a few delicious minutes. “I want more than a taste. I’m gonna fucking devour you, you gorgeous woman.”

She has to cup her hand to her mouth, because a yelp escapes her as she feels his mouth on her, sucking with intent. He’s not slowly teasing her anymore - he’s hell-bent on making her come like crazy.

“Yes, like that, don’t stop now,” she rambles, already feeling the first prickles of the orgasm tingling inside her. She grabs at the comforter with a desperate hand, the other one pressing his head to her. The rhythm of his hand inside her combined with his sinfully licking lips and tongue are making her mind whirl. Finally, she feels the tell-tale tightening in her abs, the pulse of her walls around his fingers, stronger and stronger, and - 

“Mommy! Where are you?!” It’s Sammy, and she sounds desperate and panicked.

“Mama! Daddy! Sam’s had a nightmare again!” Rosie’s sleepy, disgruntled, but also concerned voice follows.

 _“MOM-MEE!”_ Sammy is full-on crying now.

Tessa snaps right out of her sexual haze, and Scott’s head shoots up. He wrenches his hand away from her like he was burned, scrambling up.  
“We’re coming, girls!” he calls, a bit breathless, but Tessa can’t blame him. She’s getting her bearings, and sitting up, too, as she watches Scott pull on his t-shirt, and puts hers on. 

“Yeah, some of us wanted to come in a different way,” she sighs, huffing out a laugh as soon as her heart stops racing. She’s dissatisfied and full of unfulfilled pleasure, but the needs of their kiddos always come first. Always. 

“Parental duties, one, adult cooties, zero,” Scott teases, helping her get up to stand. She rolls her eyes, making a show of shaking her head in disappointment.

“God, we should have stopped at one child. Would have been easier.”

“But it was _you_ who said that we should have two!”

“Okayyy,” she drawls, swatting his chest. “But it was ultimately _you_ who suggested that we go for a third!”

Scott flashes her a promising smirk. “I’ll make it up to you, T.” Giving her a kiss on the temple, he ushers her into their daughters’ bedroom.

The next morning, they bring each other mutual pleasure with just enough time to spare before Rosie and Sammy scurry into their bedroom, having decided that they must snuggle with their parents in bed at the earliest hour possible.

Tessa collapses against Scott, as he gathers her close. She listens to his heart calm its erratic beat, grinning dazedly. Her body thrums with a long-awaited satisfaction. Morning sex is so much different than their evening escapades. Sure, both of them might have tangled hair and morning breaths, but it’s so unhurried and luxuriously lazy, no delirious passion, no grabbing and thrashing around. And hey, giving each other orgasms and kissing to their hearts’ content first thing in the morning is something they want to do as much as possible - before their days will start again with diapers and feedings.

It should be said that, while Rosie and Sammy are comparatively heavy sleepers, they are by no means fond of sleeping as late as their mom often does. The door crashes open, and their two sprites burst into the bedroom, on cue.

“Mama! Daddy! Good morning!”

Rosie and Sammy run up to the bed and scramble up into it, in between their parents. Rosie attacks Scott with a bear hug, and her younger sister sets up camp right against Tessa’s rounded belly.

“Oof, Sam-Sam. Be gentle with Mommy, you little attacker,” Scott pretends to chide her, as he moves Rosie’s long chestnut tresses off his face. 

“It’s all fine, Daddy,” Tessa reassures him, smiling softly. “How are you, baby girl?” she murmurs. She was truly worried about their younger daughter the night before. In the middle of sobbing piteously, Sammy had shared that she dreamed that Mommy wasn’t there anymore, and between them, she and Scott could hardly comfort her. 

“M’kay,” Sammy mumbles, into Tessa’s abdomen. “Not scared.”

Tessa strokes Sammy’s hair, relieved. “There’s a good girl. I love you, and I’ll always be there. Mommy and Daddy will never leave you or Rosie. Do you believe us?”

“Yeah,” Sammy says, shyly, giggling when Tessa sprinkles kisses all over her cheeks. 

Scott speaks up, booping Rosie’s, and then Sammy’s, noses. “But there is one thing Mommy and I can do…” he trails off, looking serious. Tessa knows it’s all pretend - his eyes are flickering with a playful sparkle.

“What?” Sammy asks, unsurely, turning to him. 

“We can tickle two naughty little girls who woke us up so early in the morning!” Scott cackles, proceeding to do just that.

“Mommy! Help!” Sammy squeals, trying to get away from her dad’s deft hands, but Tessa laughs along triumphantly, adding her own tickles to the onslaught. Rosie and Sammy both giggle, bordering on hysterical, both trying to shield themselves and loving the shenanigans their parents subject them to.

Eventually, both girls are coughing, and their laughter is subsiding, as they bat their mom and dad’s hands away. They tuck themselves again to Tessa and Scott’s sides, and the four of them relish a familial cuddle.

“You’re sweaty, Daddy. So is Mama,” Rosie observes suddenly, patting her hand on Scott’s shoulder.

Tessa catches a blush staining Scott’s ears. That sweatiness is the result of their ‘adult cooties’ time earlier in the morning. She’s infinitely glad that their girls didn’t come over early enough to catch their parents in some rather awkward, ahem, positions.

“We are, Rosie-posie. Daddy and I were just exercising,” she explains, breezily, seeing Scott’s smirk out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh,” Rosie says, immediately losing track of it all, because Sammy cuts in, with a request.

“Daddy! Can we have your chocolate chip pancakes today?”

“Aw, come on, girls. That’s what we had two days ago!”

Scott pretends to be a serious and responsible dad, but Tessa knows he’s going to surrender to two pairs of puppy eyes in approximately five seconds.

Three and a half seconds later, he heaves a theatrical sigh and complies. “Okay, babies, but you two have to help Daddy out in the kitchen, deal?”

“Deal!” Rosie and Sammy exclaim, amid noisy kisses to Scott’s face. When they both scamper out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, Tessa gives her husband a look. Him being always ready to spoil their daughters might seem overly indulgent to outside perspectives, but she knows that he does it out of the purest and most selfless love for those two little people. 

“What?” he says, his eyebrow doing _that thing_ that means he’s endeared.

“Nothing, I just love you,” she sighs, moving off the bed so she could hug him tight and kiss him. “I love watching you be a dad to them. You’re absolutely amazing, and I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Scott’s eyes go soft. “Believe me, you do, T,” he murmurs in her ear, stroking her baby bump.

*

It all happens on such an ordinary, such a domestic and tranquil Sunday on the first of June. 

Alma and Joe and Kate and Jordan are over at theirs to just catch up. As much as Tessa and Scott are undoubtedly on pins and needles to become parents again, they still want to set aside extended family time before becoming parents all over again. 

Scott helps Joe with grilling up some hot dogs. When the smell wafts over to where the women have set up a semicircle of wicker chairs, Tessa inhales deeply and lets out a delighted laugh.

Everyone’s eyes turn to her. She grins, sheepish but amused.

“What? The smell doesn’t make me sick this time around.”

And it’s true, it was the smell of charred hot dogs specifically that caused her some unexpected (and at one point, graphic) nausea with her two other pregnancies. She’d persuaded Scott that grilling them again this time would be okay, when he was unwilling to do it because he feared it would trigger the same sickness in her.

As the Virtues and Moirs laugh along, fondly, Tessa’s breath catches, as she realizes what an _easy_ time she is having in this pregnancy. 

She had been tired and sluggish all the way until Rosie’s birth, and absolutely miserable with morning sickness as she carried Sammy. This time around, she’s bursting with energy and vitality. She eats everything she wants with almost unbelievable relish - and keeps all food down, too. She’s eager to do her prenatal yoga and it does relax and unwind her, instead of making her avoid it like another burden in her busy schedule. She has been breezing from week to week with absolutely no effort other than perhaps the bump slowing her down in her movements as it got bigger. 

She wants to roll her eyes at the cliche feeling, but she truly is just so blessed. She gazes at Rosie and Sammy’s game of hopscotch, and thinks how wonderful they would be as big sisters. In spite of their differences - or, what the hell, because of them - their two older girls are inseparable. Even now, Rosie bounces up to her younger sister and gives her a gentle hug, when Sammy makes it to the end of the court on one foot. Sammy returns the hug, grinning, as they sway a little in that ‘my sister is my best friend’ way.

Tessa’s eyes go blurry with tears. She feels a surge of love - for the girls, for the tiny baby still developing inside her body, for Scott, who stands dutifully at the grill, occasionally cracking jokes and throwing winks in her direction.

Maybe it’s right and the way it should be. Maybe the third time really is the charm, and this baby is something they never knew they needed for their family to truly be complete. 

A tiny voice buzzes like an annoying mosquito, from the furthest corner of her mind: _You’ve still got a month to go. Don’t jinx it. It’s still not over yet. Anything can -_

No, she shakes her head a tiny bit, everything will be _great._ She composes herself before anyone gives her a strange look for shaking her head at nothing. 

Scott brings the freshly prepared hot dogs over ‘for the ladies’ and Tessa immediately gobbles hers up like someone is standing over her and trying to take it away. She’s halfway through her second one, before the others have taken a few bites.

A moan that is definitely not appropriate for a family gathering escapes her as she chews.

“That’s your best hot dog yet,” she says, addressing Scott. Belatedly, she realizes how that might have sounded, and would laugh, but fears choking to death.

Beside her, Jordan is positively _wheezing._ “Sam, there are innocent children around here. Maybe tone down the thirst?”

Sammy turns towards Jordan from where she and Rosie are sitting on the beach towel on the grass, munching on their own hot dogs. “Thanks, I’m not thirsty, Auntie Jord!” she tells her, full of confusion. 

Tessa elbows Jordan, discreetly. “It’s okay, Sammy, Auntie meant me.”

Sammy shrugs and she and Rosie go back to eating. 

Tessa shakes her head, now at her sister’s suggestive smile. Kate and Alma are smiling with endearment, though they’re pretending to not hear the banter.

Meanwhile, Tessa’s eye strays towards Jordan’s pina colada. She eyes it longingly, wishing she could also have a taste. She is so intense about it, that she spaces out. A glass slides towards her, then, and she looks up in surprise.

Scott has come up to her, and placed a glass with the same refreshing drink on her table. “For your thirst, T,” he winks, proud of himself.

Jordan is snickering at the scene. Tessa rolls her eyes at what she thinks is his antics. “I can’t, Scott. _She_ can’t have any, remember?” She gestures to her belly, a no-duh moment.

“Well, I wasn’t offering _her_ any,” Scott insists, acting scandalized at the very idea. “Not a drop of alcohol in there, don’t you worry, babe. Both of you.”

Tessa tugs his hand so he leans down, and kisses him. He tastes like summer, like beer, and, essentially, like Scott. She feels him grin into the kiss, and joy zings through her.

There’s a wolf-whistle from her sister, soft, touched exclamations from their mothers, and she knows Joe is probably swiping away a tear. She doesn’t care. She loves her husband, her one and only Scott, for the simplest gestures. For everything he does. For giving her all he can, and all she needs.

She is in the bathroom a bit later on, and senses an extremely strange thing. For a few disorienting, jarring moments, she doesn’t even register the fluid coming out of her as blood.

The day is still so sunny, so warm, Tessa thinks, irrelevantly, haphazardly, trying to rush out of the room to alert Scott, or her mom, or anyone (but it’s like she is running through a barrier). _This day is so beautiful, and I’m about to lose the baby._

_It’s the first of June. It’s too soon._

_It’s the first of June. It’s too soon._

Her mind is repeating it, and she clings to the stupid two phrases like they’ll prevent her from losing her mind to the fear. She stumbles out, but her knees give way right in by the front door that leads outside, to that beautiful summer yard.

When Scott sees the front of her white shorts stained with crimson, he goes deathly pale. He just stares at her, in shock. She tries to at least call him. He darts to her side instantly.

Her shriek is deafening, but no sound comes out.

_There’s a stain on his t-shirt. Fucking pineapple juice._

His wife is bleeding, his baby is in danger, and all Scott thinks about is the stain on his shirt. But he hates himself for giving Tessa that virgin cocktail. He’s sickened to think that it’s the pineapple juice that might have triggered her premature labor. She’s only just thirty-four weeks in, and it may not seem like too low a term, but, the blood, the _blood…_

He genuinely doesn’t know how he didn’t get into an accident, speeding to the hospital as Tessa bled and bled without end in the backseat, held by a terrified Kate. 

And Tess hadn’t been making a sound of her suffering, except for a feeble moan here and there. He wanted, how he wanted her to moan, to cry, to complain that each contraction was all his fault. How he wishes that it was the first of _July,_ her due date, and that she was having a normal, healthy labor. He wishes for all the world that it would be the right time for this birth to happen, that he’d be with her, holding her hand, comforting and encouraging her as she brought their baby into the world.

But he’s here, on the brink of despair, and _his wife and his baby_ are there, behind the great door.

This couldn’t be happening to them. This doesn’t happen to them! They were supposed to be so goddamn _happy..._

A nurse walks out, and he startles towards her, his entire expression pleading.  
“How is she? Let me see her, please! Please,” his voice breaks, as he is helpless to prevent tears from slipping down his cheeks.

The nurse purses her lips. “Mr. Moir, I’m sorry, but it’s better that we don’t allow anyone else into the operating room. Your wife has a severe blood loss due to the placental abruption. Of course, if it weren’t for that, we’d have her attempt a natural delivery. But the baby is in distress, unfortunately. They’re preparing for an emergency c-section.”

Scott falls onto his seat. _No. This can’t be happening. This absolutely cannot be fucking happening._

“Don’t worry,” the nurse’s voice is exceptionally gentle and soothing. “It’s Dr. Barton who is performing the procedure. You’re in luck, she’s a true professional. Everything will be alright.”

And, they’re left alone, again. 

Scott lets out a sharp, pitiful parody of a laugh. _They’re in luck? Some fucking luck this is._

Even if _(please, he will never ask for anything else)_ Tessa is fine, how will they survive it if something happens to the baby?

God, but he can’t just choose his baby over his wife. It’s just so awfully, so unfairly not simple. He knows he should; he knows their children come before anyone else - even, if he had to be brutally honest, before each other.

But he can’t. He cannot _simply_ act like the tiny infant about to be born is more important than Tessa. He doesn’t know what he should do, except wanting for them both to be alive and well. He hates even having to face this choice at all. He would so much rather kill _himself_ than choose. 

No matter how much the prospect of anything happening to the baby devastates him, he knows he would go insane if he loses Tess. His Tess, his T, his Tutu, his precious wife and best friend, his better half and soulmate. Funny and kind, gorgeous and brilliant, remarkable and irreplaceable - how is he meant to live not just apart from her, but in a world where she will no longer exist? 

How the hell is he supposed to tell Rosie and Sammy that Mommy isn’t coming home? That half their world is going to be destroyed, practically beyond repair?

Beside him, Kate weeps unendingly into Jordan’s shoulder. Tessa’s sister is wiping at her own eyes, patting her mother on the back fruitlessly. A flash of shame cuts through Scott’s savage despair: no matter how he loves and cherishes Tessa, he would never understand what all this is doing to Kate. He knows he cannot begin to guess what is running through her mind. Tessa is her youngest daughter. She is Jordan’s baby sister. The binds that tie the Virtue women are irrevocably snug, and to be an impotent witness in this horror that is unfolding must be still harder on both of them, than it is on Scott. 

_Please God, fate, whoever or whatever you are out there. Please don’t take her from us. From me. Please let her survive this. And let the baby be okay._

He pats at Kate’s free hand, expecting her to pull away. But she grabs his palm and squeezes, choking out something between sobs. He leans his head against the woman who is his second mother, forcing his own tears back. 

The agony of waiting stretches on. Nothing can be heard from beyond the great door of the surgical room. He stares at the wall opposite him with its handmade colorful poster congratulating new parents. He can’t process a word of it, but he drills his eyes into the rainbow-bright phrases, as if the action would be any help in this situation. 

He thinks of the baby, and another spike of sickening anxiety stabs him. His baby, their baby, their tiny daughter, whom the doctors are battling to save right now. He thinks that she’s going to be okay, that she will come out of Tessa’s body all crying and beautiful and perfect. Green-eyed. His mind seizes that image and clings to it, as those who are in danger cling to a lifeboat. And they will name this tiny baby Jade, just like Tessa wanted. Hell, he will agree to any name Tessa wishes. He is going to give both of them whatever they want, for as long as he himself will live. 

Scott fails to restrain a sob. _Tessa, oh Tessa._ Everything will be the way she wants now. He just wants her okay. He wants their baby okay. 

It’s absolutely excruciating, sitting here all huddled together under an umbrella of pain and confusion. Scott wants to jump over to the door, slam his fists against it, shout for all the hospital to hear, asking what is taking so long, why nobody is bothering to tell them a single word about how the baby is, never mind Tessa herself. 

The door swings open again. Scott raises his head, and sees the doctor, the same Dr. Barton whom the nurse had praised, walking out. Scott can’t care less if it’s her or any other doctor. He just wants to know how Tessa and the baby are.

His heart feels as though a sharp needle was yanked right out of it. The doctor has intense pity all over her face. She’s not supposed to look like that, he thinks, panic rising in him like nausea. She’s supposed to smile and tell him to not worry, right?

“Mr. Moir. I’m so sorry. Tessa lost too much blood. We did all we could, but...she did not make it.”

_Did not make it. What a stupid dumb ass phrase. Fake it till you make it._

It hits him, with his next shaky breath.

No. What did they just say? Tessa is...no, she is not!  
“Tessa!” he screams, trying to push past Dr. Barton and the nurse. “Tessa, it’s okay, I’m coming!”

“Mr. Moir, Scott, please,” the doctor implores, trying to prevent him from going. “I’m so, so incredibly sorry. You shouldn’t go there.”

But he pushes past the resisting doctor, and stops cold in his tracks. There on the bed lays Tessa, completely and utterly still.

“Tess,” he breathes, falling to his knees by the bed. As he grasps her hand, it’s like he’s been kicked in the stomach. “Oh, God, why are you so cold?” he chokes out, grabbing her fingers. He shakes her gently, then harder. Why are her eyes closed? Why can’t she hear him? Why?!

‘Wake up! Please, T, you gotta wake up,” he moans, heart pounding, pressing her hand, her shockingly, impossibly cold hand to his lips. “Wake up, Tess, please!”

She doesn’t wake up, and he wants to die; he just prays for the darkness and the nothingness to swallow him up right along. So he wouldn’t have to witness this, the love of his life, lifeless before his own eyes. He wants to die, he so desperately wants to just die and stop existing, because he does not deserve life when hers was taken away.

When another “Please…” tumbles out of his mouth, the world goes mercifully blank, at long last. 

“Scott, babe, please wake up for me. I’m here, Tessa is here. I’m okay, you’re okay. Wake up, babe, it’s okay.”

Tessa’s voice, so shockingly real and alive. “Tess?” he whimpers, afraid to open his eyes to such a cruel trick of his subconscious.

But this really is Tessa’s shape beside him in bed. It’s her voice and her scent and her warm hands cupping his face. Warm. He grasps at them, daring to lift his eyelids. “Tess?” he whispers once more, as if in prayer.

Seeing her face, _alive_ and stunningly beautiful and in spite of its scared expression, floods him with relief. “Tess,” he sobs, clinging to her, burying his face in her neck.

_Tessa, Tessa, Tessa. His beloved T._

“Shh,” she murmurs, stroking his hair, holding him. “Scott, it’s okay. I’m fine. Can you breathe with me? Take a deep breath, kiddo. Please, for me.”

Scott gives her a ragged inhale. She keeps holding him and shushing and whispering soothingly, and he breathes with her until his heart isn’t pounding, and it finally is real that Tessa is alive. So blessedly solid, tangible and alive. He gulps great lungfuls of her sweet, familiar fragrance, holding her with all he’s got. 

“I dreamed you were... _gone_...again,” he whimpers, pathetically. He feels at once dazed with consolation, and embarrassed. He’s no better than a little kid.

Her face is concerned, anxiety coloring her eyes. “This has been the third time in a row you have been getting these nightmares. I know that it has been pretty rough, but it’s not your fault. I swear, it’s never in a million years your fault. Nothing is.”

Scott slumps against her, briefly closes his eyes into their hug. “I hate that I’m being all dramatic, because, T, you’ve had it the worst with all the shit that happened, but I can’t stop it. I literally am going insane, eh?”

“No. No, you’re not going insane, I totally understand. It _was_ pretty traumatizing,” Tessa assures him. “But, Scott, maybe we should see someone about it?”

 _We._ Such a small and powerful pronoun. Here he is waking up in cold sweat from night terrors, like a scared boy, and she is still so selfless, so generous, wanting to give him comfort and reprieve from his own residual fear. She sees this as a challenge for them both to overcome.

She’s a force to be reckoned with, his wife.

“Scott, you should see someone,” Tessa repeats emphatically, squeezing his hand. “No, you’re _going_ to see someone about it. Let’s do that, okay? I hate seeing you like this.”

Scott sits up, rubbing his palm over his face, tired but no longer panicked. “I’d hate for you to think that I’m making this all about myself,” he says. “I’m supposed to be the one for you to lean on. I’m supposed to be protecting you. And it kills me that I’m not strong enough to do this with you. To take care of you.”

“Scott, stop.”

Tessa’s voice turns firm. She wraps her arm around his shoulders and makes him look at her.

“You are strong enough. You’re the strongest, the kindest, the most loving man in the world. It’s kind of why I literally married you,” she says, as her green eyes stare earnestly into his. “But you’re not supposed to be strong all the time. No one is. God knows I’d go crazy too if it was me seeing you the way you had to see me.”

She gives a slight shudder at the thought, but continues. “I’m fine. Jadie is fine. We got through this. Now, let me help you through it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help, too. And I feel like this turned out more difficult for you. Yeah, I did have a bit of an internal freak-out when I saw myself bleeding like that, but at the end, they just knocked me out, and when I woke up, there was me and Jadie.”

“And me, bawling like a newborn, too,” Scott quips, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

Further talking about it has to be postponed, because that moment is when Jade Alma Katherine Moir speaks up with a resounding cry, in her bassinet over at Tessa’s left side.

That sound still leaves Scott speechless. Breathless. His third baby. His absolutely amazing, adorable, perfect third baby. He’d stop sleeping normally forever if it meant always hearing this kitten-like shriek, that changes into contented cooing once she settles in to nurse.

He takes care of her diaper efficiently, and then hands her back to Tessa, as gingerly as if she is a fragile, priceless object of art. Which, really, she is. 

As Tessa nurses their newest little one, murmuring to her in the softest, sweetest voice, Scott watches, enraptured. Neither he nor Tessa are parents eager to play favorites, but - either because Jadie is so newly born, or because she came to them with such struggle - this experience is the most valuable of all. 

She’d had the umbilical cord around her neck they were told (once all danger was behind). It was Dr. Katherine Barton that saved their tiny girl. Thankfully (and he was really damn thankful now), Tessa’s perilous condition had been quickly taken into control as well. So, Jadie was ultimately named both for her grandmas, but also for the wonderful doctor that helped her arrive into the world.

More tears fill his eyes, and he leans to kiss Tessa’s shoulder. He feels her cheek nuzzling against his, as they both gaze at this tiny little infant, all theirs to love.

He’s going to get therapy. They both will. Their family is big and strong, and they will be stronger yet. After this, he thinks, the Virtue-Moirs will be the very example of life and love.

The door creaks open. An unusually quiet Sammy walks slowly in, followed by a shyly smiling Rosie. Scott meets them with a grin, as he puts a finger to his lips. 

“What is it, girls?” Tessa asks, warmly, glancing up at their older daughters.

“We heard Jadie crying,” Rosie says, as always, the concerned and kind oldest sister. “Oh, you’re feeding her, Mommy? Can we see?”

Sammy beams, too. Their girls have become fascinated with the aspects of caring for a newborn, including breastfeeding. 

Scott side-eyes his wife. “Dinner and a show, T? That is, dinner for this one -” he strokes Jadie’s soft dark hair, “- and a show for the big girls.” 

Rosie and Sammy giggle when he winks at them and carefully perch on the bed beside their parents.

He takes his phone, idly. The screen says _Saturday, July 1, 2027 - 12:03 am._

It’s July first. The ‘original’ due date, but it now means Jadie is one month old. According to Dr. Barton, she is thriving, just like any newborn baby. Those terrifying hours in the hospital are safely in the past.

Rosie and Sammy link hands as they gaze on their baby sister. Sammy has put her hand into Tessa’s free one, and Rosie reaches towards Scott to do the same. Jadie’s light green eyes blink slower and slower, until she falls into a deep, healthy sleep, full of milk. They all sit tight for a minute, in spite of it. The parents and daughters all look at each other, and Scott feels like he too is reborn, from the sheer force of love in the spacious bed that moment.

He knows that he, and they all, will be just perfect. Not as much because of doctors and shrinks, even, but because they have this. Forever.

They are connected by a lifeline of love - strong, sometimes challenging, but wholly their own.

  
  



End file.
